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Well, I've recently written the prologue of a story that I plan on elaborating more into soon. I'm not entirely sure what it'll be about yet, but I kinda like it, so, here ya go...
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“Hello there, my new young reader,” I said welcomingly, though not quite sure to whom I was speaking, or what I was speaking about. “Or, are you old? What is age, anyway, but a mere number? Wouldn't it be much more relevant to count down from the year you'll die? Or, would that require something impossible? Why exactly am I talking to myself, and what am I talking about?”

I realized I must have gone crazy, at least temporarily. I also realized that I was hungry, and then I realized I was out of food. It was then that I realized that I should go grocery shopping sometime soon.

“Anyway, to whomever I'm talking to, and whatever I'm talking about, hello. I am Namey McNamington. Quite the generic name, no? I begged my parents not to name me it, but alas, I was just born, and could not yet speak. Or could I? What, exactly, is speech, but a means of communication? And just how exactly is it that I remember not wanting to be named Namey McNamington at the time of my birth? More importantly, though, when was I born?”

I remembered my insanity and gathered myself. Actually, I gathered myself, a few of my friends, and a few chickens. I thought it would be a good way to pass the time.

“Now, I must stay on subject,” I reminded myself, cursing myself for letting myself get so out of hand. “Myself,” I said to myself. “Now, Myself, really. We must stay on subject, if we ever want to tell this young reader what is happening. Or is he old? Is he a male at all?”

I caught myself before I started rambling again, and then set myself down firmly onto the ground, and taped it there with quite a bit of duct tape, to keep myself from getting away from me again.

“Really, now, this prologue is getting quite repetitive. Wait, I'm making a prologue?”

It was then that my dear friend, Interrupty Interruptington, interrupted me.

“My dear friend, Namey McNamington, I do not mean to interrupt, but, I must say, are you talking to yourself?”

“Well, my dear friend, I must say, that you mustn't say, but you must ask whether or not I am talking to myself. And yes, I believe I am talking to Myself,” I said, motioning towards Myself, struggling to get away from me once again, but being held firmly by the duct tape. “About what exactly, I am not sure, but I believe talking to Myself in such a manor is called a soliloquy, and you were not supposed to hear it. Not at all, I believe.”

“Well,” commented Interrupty, “you were talking to yourself-”

“No,” I cut in, “not Yourself, Myself.”

“You were talking to your myself so that one might think you were crazy,” he continued without acknowledging my sudden interruption.

“I believe I have gone crazy,” I recounted, then added something else. “Temporarily, at least”

“Well, perhaps you should visit a shrink, to determine the cause of your temporary insanity.”

“I believe that I know the cause,” I said, with much exaggeration. “It was caused by my lack of sense at the time of the inception of my insanity. I'm just not sure why I've gone insane. Though, I have a strong reason to believe that it has something to do with this invisible reader that I have been writing this prologue for. Even though I do not seem to be writing at all.”

“Ah, yes, I see. Quite the inconvenience, writing while you do not seem to be writing is.”

“So now you see my dilemma. I have been trying to tell my imaginary audience here what I had to tell them for quite some time now, and I keep being interrupted, either by Myself, or by you, my dear friend. And now it seems I have forgotten what I have been trying to tell them.”

“Well an idea just popped into my head. Could you have been trying to communicate with them that you have a feeling that something is about to go horribly wrong?” asked Interrupty, seeming to read my mind.

“Ah, yes, I believe I was trying to communicate with them that I have a feeling that something is about to go horribly wrong,” I repeated. “What exactly will go horribly wrong, however, is not at all clear to me. In fact, it's about as opaque as a... well, a dog, perhaps. Or, maybe a door. Anything that's opaque, I suppose.”

“Quite the random feeling, it seems,” interrupted Interrupty. “Perhaps you should lie down and take a nap. Maybe when you wake up, your insanity will have subsided.”

“Yes, perhaps I should,” I said. “I would give my mind a bit of rest, and God knows it needs it, it's been awake since the eve of yesterday. Before I retire to my bedroom, I feel I should inform you of something, Interrupty. I fear that this will be your only appearance in my 'novel,' though I was not quite aware that I was writing a novel.”

“May as well, as I am only here because you gathered me, along with a few other friends, as well as some chickens.”

“Right. Then, off I go, I suppose.” And finally, I retired to my bedroom and laid down in my bed. It was then that there was a alarge explosion somewhere in the distance, that rattled everything in my room, from my pet caterpillar's cage (which, for some reason, was empty), to me myself (who had seemed to have calmed down since I taped it up, though I did not recall removing its tape).

Naturally, I fell asleep instantly instead of going to investigate the explosion.
Well, I'll be the first to post here. I like your writing style a lot. Not much information currently but still, write some mooooaaaaaaar.
(20-02-2010 09:32 PM)~Magma King~ Wrote: [ -> ]Well, I'll be the first to post here. I like your writing style a lot. Not much information currently but still, write some mooooaaaaaaar.

Why thank you, my good sir. I kind of aim for the "nonsense" type of fiction. I think of Lewis Carroll as a big inspiration for my work, and if you like mine, you'd probably fall in love with his Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and Through the Looking Glass.

Don't worry, chapter 1 is in the works as we speak. And, -legasp-, it actually has a plot!
I LOVE THIS! Lewis Carrol is amazing, what an inspiration! Its quite a clear one, too.
(20-02-2010 09:48 PM)Pookiesnook Wrote: [ -> ]I LOVE THIS! Lewis Carrol is amazing, what an inspiration! Its quite a clear one, too.

Oh, please, I'm blushing.

Thank you very much. Yes, as I have stated, Lewis Carroll is very much my favorite author. Though I have yet to read Phantasmagoria, which sounds incredibly amazing. I'm having trouble tracking it down...
I just can't wait fort he new Tim Burton movie :p

Anywho, keep at it! I want to see this finished.
(20-02-2010 09:53 PM)Pookiesnook Wrote: [ -> ]I just can't wait fort he new Tim Burton movie :p

Anywho, keep at it! I want to see this finished.

Ayup. =] Did you hear about Marilyn Manson's biography on Carroll? Looks like it's going to be deliciously creepy, and incredibly gothic. Exactly how I like it.

And, yes, if all goes as planned, chapter 1 will be done by tomorrow.
Wow, that was awesome. I am in LOVE with this(Metaphorically speaking)! Anyway, you pretty much broke most of the "rules" of writing, but I suppose that's the style of this. There isn't anything to critique on, since the rules are already broken by the genre.

Anyway, I can't wait to read more!
Agh, not only have I been too caught up in life to post on this forum at all, but I haven't been able to work on this... Well, expect an update soon. Unless I'm too lazy to make one. x:
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